


I Know What You Did Last Friday

by IWriteSinsNotEssaysOk



Series: I See You Series [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Halloween, Sweet Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 13:51:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8210843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteSinsNotEssaysOk/pseuds/IWriteSinsNotEssaysOk





	

October 31th - Monday (2:38 am)

“Dude, Miley Cyrus is so hot. I don't know what you're talking about.” Cody laughed, walking up to his house with his best friend.

“Whatever, man. She's fugly. Yo, did you get the weed?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, and I got a new bong too.”

“Well aren't you a big shot.” Scott pushed Cody playfully.

“Yeah, yeah.” Cody rolled his eyes, pushing open the front door. “Nobody's-”

“Home?”

The two boys slowly turned to where the voice came from.

A single light clicked on to reveal a boy about their age sitting in an armchair.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” Clint said amiably. “You're going to want to shut that door now.”

“Who the hell are you?” Cody yelled.

“I'm not going to ask again.”

Scott took out to his phone to call the police, but before he could even press a button, he screamed in pain when a knife went all the way through his hand and pinned him to the wall, making him drop his phone.

“Do I have your attention now?” Clint asked calmly.

Cody was shaking, but he did what he was told and closed his front door.

“Good boy.”

Quick as a snake, Clint was out of the chair, and in front of Cody; he grabbed him by the hair and threw him onto the floor.

Before the brown haired boy could get up, Clint stabbed both his hands and legs with serrated steel knives, effectively securing him in the carpeted ground.

Cody yelped in agony.

“Who are you?” he cried out. “Why are you doing this?”

Clint silently walked back over to the chair he had previously been sitting in and to Cody’s horror, took out a tire iron and a belt.

“I don't know. You tell me.” the archer said.

He shoved the belt in Cody’s mouth before smoothly bringing down the tire iron onto his left leg.

Cody screamed through the leather of the belt, and tears began to roll down his face.

“Stop!” Scott yelled, but was silenced by a single look from Clint.

“Don't worry, big boy. I'll get to you too. Oh, and if you make another sound, I'm going to carve your tongue out.”

Clint took a hunting knife from behind his back, and set it again the broken bone he had just created.

“You see,” he began to saw against the bone, and Cody continued to scream bloody murder into the belt. “You did a very bad thing last Friday, didn't you?”

Clint stopped sawing when he was halfway through the bone, and the whiteness of the skeleton was fully out of the skin in a jagged, broken fashion.

Picking up the tire iron again, he proceed to repeat the motion to Cody’s other leg.

Taken both legs in his hands, Clint swiftly brought them downward, resulting in the bones to break off slightly in a loud crack.

“Unfortunately, you're never going to walk again.” the archer shrugged. “Or more accurately, you won't be able to run away like the coward you are.”

He brought down the iron on Cody’s ribs, and a spurt of blood shot out of the boy's mouth.

Clint used his foot to crush a few more ribs, and more blood bubbled from his prey’s lips.

The pain was too much for Cody, and the boy lost consciousness.

Clint turned to Scott, who was hanging on the wall like a taxidermied animal.

The sandy haired athlete walked back over to the chair, and took out another belt.

“Open wide.” he instructed.

“Are you going to kill us?” Scott whispered.

“Maybe.” Clint shrugged.

He looked the blond straight in the eye.

“Do you know why I'm doing this?”

Scott shook his head violently.

“No!”

Clint sighed, stabbing another knife into his untouched hand so that he was hanging from the wall.

He reached for Scott’s jeans, and that sent the blond into hysterics.

“Please don't rape me!” he sobbed.

Clint scoffed.

“That's not my style, baby. And I'm still waiting for you to tell the truth. Why am I doing this?”

“I don't know!”

He roughly pulled the jeans down, and instinctively, Scott kicked him in the face.

The horror of what he’d done immediately settled onto Scott’s face.

“I didn't mean to!” he tried to plead.

Clint smiled.

“Hey, no harm done, right?”

He chose this time to snap both of Scott’s ankles.

Scott clamped his mouth closed hard so that he wouldn't make any sound.

Clint threw the jeans to the ground, leaving Scott in his underwear.

“Last chance.” he said. “Tell me why I'm doing this, and I'll let you go.”

Scott face was wet with the tears that were flowing from his eyes.

“It's because we raped that boy.”

Clint chuckled. 

“Very good. Don't you feel better now?”

Without warning, he shoved the belt into Scott’s mouth, and knelt down in front of him, putting his blade against Scott’s ankles.

Scott yelled something unintelligible through the leather, and Clint sighed.

“Oh, you thought I was really going to let you go. Let me tell you something, Scotty; one bad guy to another.”

He looked up so that he was staring straight at Scott.

“When I'm done with you, you and your friend are most likely going to die. Then I'm going to go home and sleep like a baby, happy to know that I killed someone as disgusting as you two. Now I'm going to skin you alive, and I'm going to relish every last second of it.”

Clint grinned, and it was so sinister looking that Scott felt his heart stop beating for a few moments.

The archer set the knife to the skin of Scott’s left ankle, and slowly scraped hard enough under the skin until he hit the red muscle. Then he pushed his blade upward, and when Scott screamed, Clint couldn't help but laugh.

….

When Scott’s legs were bloody pulps and his skin was in a neat pile on the floor, Clint walked over to the small can of gasoline he had gathered and poured some on both boy’s crotches.

Lighting two matches, he dropped them and watched apathetically as the two boys dicks burst into flames.

He walked out the house, took out a disposable cell phone, and dialed nine-one one.

“Nine- one one, what's your emergency?”

“Hello?” Clint asked in a nasally, worried voice. “I heard two boys screaming in a house on North Dogwood by the Aquatic Center, and I thought I should call in just in case it was a murder or something.”

“Ma'am, it's important to stay on the line–”

Clint hung up the phone, and threw it in the nearest trash can.

He then zipped up his jacket, threw the hood over his head, and walked off into the night.


End file.
